


all at sea

by moonatoms



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, boating adventures, pretty pointless fluff, seasickness is a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonatoms/pseuds/moonatoms
Summary: Lucifer and Chloe go for a day-trip on his yacht. It doesn't exactly go as planned.





	all at sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BurningUpASunJustToSayHello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningUpASunJustToSayHello/gifts).



> Not a new story but I made a deal with BurningUpASunJustToSayHello that seemed smart at the time and which resulted in me having to repost this. Sigh. I take no responsibility for any of this.

It was surprising to her somehow how little really changed once they got together. A lot of things were different, sure. There was a lot more kissing and cuddling and really good sex, of course, but many things also remained the same. He still acted like a child and drove her crazy and they still bickered like an old married couple (just that this now often ended with her pinned against the nearest wall and his mouth covering hers, kissing her until she forgot what she had been trying to say in the first place) and he was still not very adept at talking about his feelings, no surprise there. But those things were ultimately the foundation of their relationship and, even if he could be absolutely inappropriate and annoying, his honesty was refreshing and his strong feelings about injustice mirrored her own. He _did_ manage to draw her out of her shell more often than not, and that was partially what had attracted her to him in the first place, even if she would never admit it. And of course she already knew that those things were just one of the many layers of him, for underneath lay a deep loyalty and concern for those he cared about. As well as many, many surprises, like how he actually seemed to enjoy planning dates for them. This was something she never would have anticipated. After all, Lucifer _did_ have a reputation when she met him, and he had always seemed like the kind of person who would only go on a date as a means to an end, which in his case usually meant finding a bedfellow for the night -- but this wasn’t the case with her. Instead he actually seemed to find pleasure in coming up with elaborate and usually way too expensive date ideas, a mixture of romantic (a picnic in the park that he spent complaining about how he was getting dirt on his Armani suit), fun (a paintball game that he used to try to convince her to give him a gun) and downright crazy (the time he borrowed a Formula One race car and took her for a ride and she quite literally saw her life flash before her eyes). And she had to admit that his excitement when he had come up with a new _splendid_ idea was contagious. Plus she couldn’t remember someone ever trying so hard to make her happy like this, so she mostly gave him free reign, though she did make him promise her to never borrow a race car again.

 

So far, he had kept that promise. And it looked like he was going to keep it today as well when he pulled into the parking area of one of the most exclusive marinas in town. Getting out of the car, she let her eyes roam over the rows of boats that probably cost more than half of L.A. combined before turning to face him.

 

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

 

He gave her an amused grin at the question. “Why, we’re going on a yacht, of course. What else would we be doing at a marina?”

 

He held out his hand for her and she took it, a small smile appearing on her face. “You rented a boat?”

 

He looked almost insulted at that but didn’t reply, simply tugged her past an array of boats in all shapes and sizes until at last he came to a stop in front of a motorboat. It was relatively small, white, immaculate but certainly lavish enough, and she turned to him with a smile.

 

"You have a yacht?," she asked. When he just gave her a _look_ she had to roll her eyes. "Of course you do."

 

"Well two, actually. But the other one is much too big. Way too inconvenient for a short day trip."

 

“I see,” she said and stepped closer to the boat. She couldn’t help but run her hand over the stern, the clean material of it already warm from the morning sun. When she turned back around he was watching her with an unreadable expression.

 

“What?” she asked, stretching out her hand to grab his and tug him into her and he followed willingly.

 

“Nothing.” His own hand came to rest on the small of her back and she let herself fall into his side.

 

"I just thought you might enjoy a day out in the sun." 

 

It was _sweet_ and she couldn't help but turn her head and angle it up to give him a soft kiss. His hands curled around her waist immediately and he pulled her closer but she brought her hand to his chest and gently pushed him away. 

 

“Chloe,” he protested, but she silenced him with a quick peck on the lips, pulling away before it could turn into something more.

 

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” she promised, didn’t miss how his eyes darkened at her words. “But for now I do believe you promised me a boat trip.”

 

* * *

 

 She was fine at first, simply enjoying the feeling of the sun on her skin and breathing in the fresh salty air while he expertly steered them away from the marina, but the further they got away from the shore, the more she started feeling _queasy_. And while it started as mild discomfort, just a soft rumble in the depths of her stomach, it rapidly turned into something more until it quite literally felt like all of her organs were loosely tumbling around in her abdomen and she had to close her eyes against the sudden onslaught of nausea.

 

“Are you okay, darling?”

 

She opened her eyes again to find him watching her with a worried expression and she nodded quickly, the movement sending a sudden wave of dizziness over her.

 

“I’m fine.” She dismissed it, tried to ignore the feeling in her stomach because this _was_ nice and she _wanted_ to enjoy it, but _of course_ her body would not care about that and instead wanted to ruin it for her anyway and she was starting to feel really _bad_ and it was getting harder to breathe against the nausea.

 

She just really hoped she was _not_ going to throw up.

 

Of course Lucifer, as perceptive as he was, picked up on how _not fine_ she was immediately, his brow already wrinkled in confusion and worry as he regarded her.

 

“Clearly you are not, darling. Your skin is positively white. What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s nothi – oh damn it.” Another wave of nausea washed over her and she pulled her knees into her body, curled further against the seat and breathed in deeply as she tried to keep her stomach contents down.

 

“Chloe,” his voice sounded more worried now and in two seconds he had turned off the ignition and crossed the small distance to where she was sitting.

 

“I’m fine…oh god,” she ground out between deep breaths as he crouched down beside her, counted to ten and hoped that it would appease her stomach enough to let her enjoy this.

 

“What’s wrong?” he inquired again. She bit her lip, said nothing for a second, but when she didn’t magically feel better, she knew she’d have to tell him.

 

“Ithinkimightbeseasick,” she admitted. He looked at her, completely puzzled, and she sighed.

 

“I think I might be seasick, okay?”

 

Oh, there was no maybe about it, she was _definitely_ seasick, feeling worse every minute and also getting more and more annoyed and angry at her body that could _not even let her enjoy this great day her boyfriend had apparently planned for her_ but that all vanished when she looked at Lucifer, who was looking about two seconds away from a full-fledged panic attack.

 

“Seasickness, is that dangerous?”, he asked, eyes wide and she quickly reached out her hand to squeeze his arm reassuringly, trying to convey that she was not in imminent danger. Despite everything, he still didn’t really understand human illnesses, plus he’d never been able to deal well with her being sick or injured. It didn’t make for a very good combination.

 

“Only for your upholstery,” she said in what she hoped was a sufficiently light tone, adding a small smile for good measure, and it had the desired effect, his face morphing from worry to horror quickly at the prospect of her getting sick all over his precious boat.

 

“This is Italian leather, worth more than your car.” He exclaimed loudly, but his posture was visibly relaxed now. “You better not throw up on it.”

 

“Thanks for your concern,” she deadpanned. “But don’t worry, if I – ahh,” she breathed in deeply as she could feel the nausea coil tightly in her stomach “– if I have to puke I am going to make sure I aim for the water.”

 

“So just being on the water can make you sick? Bloody hell." He got up again and threw his hands in the air. “The human body is truly ridiculous. How are any of you even still alive?"

 

She shot him an amused look at his outburst but it was weakened by another sudden wave of dizziness that came over her and she had to hold on to the railing to steady herself.  
This _sucks_ , she thought to herself.

 

"You never told me you get seasick." Lucifer ranted on, in that way he tended to when he was _clearly_ worried but did not want to show it.

 

Oh yes, this _really_ sucked. And if she hadn’t thought she would definitely throw up if she did it, she’d have banged her head against the railing right about now. "Because I didn't know."

 

"How could you not know that you get seasick?" He sounded exasperated as he started pacing along the length of the boat and she grit her teeth, both to keep from throwing up, but also to not sock him in the head.

 

She knew he was just worried but she was doing her best _not_ to destroy his upholstery here and she didn’t really need him freaking out right now, not when she was feeling absolutely dreadful.

 

"I don't know, Lucifer, maybe because not everyone is rich and has a yacht they take out for weekend trips like you?” she said, trying to hold it together. “The last time I was on a boat was when I was a kid and my dad took me on a whale-watching trip.”

 

“Well if you went once, why did you never go again?”

 

He was honestly such a child sometimes. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath before opening them again. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she bit her lip. God, she just wanted to die in peace. Was that really too much to ask?

 

“Because that was when my dad discovered that he got seasick.”

 

Which was something she unfortunately seemed to have inherited from him. In full force. And the discussion with Lucifer was not exactly making it better.

 

Knowing that they would have to stop arguing before things got ugly, she closed her eyes again and drew her knees into her body and wrapped her arms around them and his gaze softened immediately. In seconds, he had sat down in front of her, his hands coming to rest on each side of her body.

 

“I apologize,” he said softly. “I am just worried. It seems that anything will kill you humans and I’m…” he trailed off, looked down at the ground and then back up at her.

 

“Well, let’s just say I’d prefer if nothing happened to you.”

 

Smiling slightly despite feeling absolutely terrible, she leaned forward to burrow her face in his chest and his arms wrapped around her immediately, pulling her closer.

 

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “But I promise, this is really nothing dangerous. Just very annoying.”

 

She felt him nod slightly as his arms tightened around her, and she held onto him, too, tried to focus on nothing but the familiar warmth of his body and his heartbeat, steady and solid beneath her. It didn’t work, though -- if anything, her nausea just seemed to get worse and worse with every second until she finally couldn’t hold it anymore. With lightning speed she pushed him away, didn’t even notice his slight yelp of surprise, already too busy emptying the contents of her breakfast over the side of the boat.

 

When the vomiting turned into dry heaving, she leaned her head against the railing, tried to get her breathing under control again. Her stomach was still grumbling and she felt absolutely _dreadful_. His strong arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind and she let him guide her into a lying position. She didn’t expect it to be possible for him to look even more concerned, but somehow he did.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, clearly embarrassed by the entire situation, this, the fact that she had ruined his carefully planned surprise.

 

"Just don't puke on the Prada," he replied airily, but his eyes betrayed the forced lightness in his voice. “Is there anything you can do to make it stop? Some sort of medication, possibly?”

 

“Well, there are some meds you can take, but since I didn’t know it would happen, I don’t have anything with me.” She said, her lashes fluttering against her cheek. “Let’s just go back.”

  
“But what if you get sick again?” he asked.

 

“Then I get sick again. There’s really nothing we can do about it.”

 

When he didn’t reply and just continued regarding her with a concerned expression, she stretched out her hand, let it rest on his arm. “Please, let’s just go, I just want to get it over with.”

 

He still didn’t reply, his nose scrunched up as if he was contemplating something.

 

“Does flying make you sick too?” he asked suddenly and she raised her eyebrows in confusion at the seemingly random question.

 

“What are you talking ab…oh no Lucifer, no.” Fixing him with a glare she held onto his hand, stopping them right before he could fold them together. Of course he would go there.

 

“Lucifer, you are not calling your brother so he can fly here and take me back.” She said a little desperately.

 

He looked at her a little confused, as if it was the most normal thing ever to call your angel brother to pick up your seasick girlfriend from a boat in the middle of the ocean. “But you are clearly unwell.”

 

“And I will be fine as soon as I am back on solid ground in fifteen minutes.” She reassured him, “Really, please, let’s just go. The more time we spend discussing this, the more I feel like throwing up and next time I might not be able to react so fast.”

 

That seemed to be enough to spur him into action. Reluctantly letting go of her hand, he leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was a familiar gesture but somehow she could tell that there was more to it, despite not generally being one to be too concerned with the consequences of his actions, and despite there being no way he could have known she could tell he was feeling bad for being the one who instigated the trip in the first place. Reaching out once again, she slowly took hold a of his hand, squeezed it lightly to let him know that it was okay, that _she_ was okay, and he smiled slightly in return before slowly starting the boat again.

 

She closed her eyes again as the motor roared to life. Fifteen more minutes and they’d be back on the mainland. She could do it, she could hold out for that…oh god –

 

 

* * *

Even though she insisted she was fine he wouldn’t even let her step off the boat alone, instead scooping her up and carrying her off bridal style. She had thrown up again on the way back, thankfully managing to avoid the boat once again and while her body was slowly returning to normal once they got back to land, she was still feeling rather queasy, which made it easy for him to ignore her protests.

 

“Lucifer, put me down,” she hissed but he didn’t listen to her, his arms just wrapping around her even tighter as she tried to half-heartedly wriggle her way out of his hold.

 

He carried her all the way back to the car, opening the door and carefully placing her on the seat.

 

“Well, that backfired spectacularly,” he concluded once he, too, was seated and she turned to him, pressed a light kiss to his stubble.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said when she pulled back. “It was a very nice idea, though. Thank you.”

 

“Yes, you throwing up twice on the boat was certainly nice and absolutely something you should thank me for,” he grumbled as he started the ignition and pulled out of the parking space then smiled at her softly.

 

“So no race cars and no boats -- organizing a date for you is getting rather difficult.”

 

She grinned and reached out to clasp his right hand in hers while he steered them onto the highway. “Maybe you could ask Maze if she has an idea.”

 

He raised his eyebrow. “Darling, if I do that, then we’ll be spending our next date at one of the city’s finer Sex clubs.”

 

She had to laugh at that and even more at the expression on his face when she told him with a wink that that didn’t sound like such a bad idea. She was already feeling much better than before, her nausea having quieted down to a numb rumble in her stomach, but she had no doubt that when they got home, he’d still continue to fuss over her. Her heart swelled at the thought.

 

He was so tough and emotionally distant and immature and flippant on the surface, but he was so much more beneath it, and despite all of the issues and challenges that came with it, she knew that she wouldn’t trade this, their relationship, for anything. And when his thumb started rubbing slow circles on her hand and he looked at her in that way that was reserved just for her, she knew he felt the same way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "All At Sea" by Richard Walters which does not fit the vibe of this story at all but is a beautiful song nevertheless.


End file.
